


The Art of Being Pathetic

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-02
Updated: 2008-04-02
Packaged: 2019-01-19 14:29:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12412095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Not everyone can be the hero, the Mr. Perfect who's marrying the Little Miss Sunshine and Daisies.Some of us have to quiver and fall, it's human nature." [lily x james, remus, oneshot]





	The Art of Being Pathetic

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

****

** The Art of Being Pathetic **

_(But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve_  
For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.)  
\--Othello, 1. 1

William Shakespeare

 

 

“Yes, yes – oh my God James, exactly how long have you been planning – yes!” Lily throws her arms around James, her face contorted into one giant grin.

James stutters, finally opting for the easy – but no less exhilarating – way to express his feelings: a kiss.

 

Remus has never seen anyone get engaged before, but it’s exactly like the books say it is, a fairytale and an absolute joy. His face is smothered with a grin of his own as Lily and James dance around their kitchen, their happiness spreading to even the tins of sugar and jars of jam that lay on their bench tops.

“And Sirius is going to be the best man, of course.”

 

It’s almost sickening how in tune they are, Remus thinks, as James raises an eyebrow in Lily’s direction and beseeches her. She nods, and then there’s a flurry of arms and legs as the happy couple jump on each other _again._ The smile fades from his face.

 

“Sir Padfoot at your service,” Sirius laughs, bowing. He grabs Peter’s hands and dragging him into the middle of the room, where they sway alongside Lily and James. Remus leans again the oven, pushing his sandy brown fringe from his face and watches them, confusion and jealousy radiating from his eyes. It must be leaking from every pore in his face too, because James tears himself away from Lily, and mutters, “Remus, wait in there, now.”

 

It must be really cutting Remus up, because he stumbles out into the lounge room without complaint, leaving Sirius and Peter giggling in the kitchen. He’s knows this is all irrational, and he hates himself for it, but he’s so … so envious.

James comes back a minute later, a sly smile on his face as he sinks into the armchair by the door, patting Lily on the back as she disappears past him into the kitchen, her long red tresses flowing over her shoulder.

 

“Congratulations,” Remus mutters finally, after what feels like an eternity of empty air and silent regret.

“Thanks. I really don’t know what to feel, though …”

“I think I know.”

 

Remus must be some sort of omnipotent god, James decides. There’s no other sensible - Sirius’ rather crass thoughts about Moony shoving various books up his arse and then regurgitating their contents until he memorises them are _somewhat_ flawed - suggestion, for how the hell he understands James’ entire range of emotions with one glance at his weary eyes.

 

“Let me guess,” he says. “You’re confused, worried sick, excited beyond belief, still shocked as to fact that she said yes, and now you’ve got the imminent threat of your mother hanging over your head, which, in your mind, is a fate worth than the Avada Kedavra itself.” Remus chomps thoughtfully on a cashew, its salty residue staining his fingertips like greasy ink as he waves his hands about in the air.

“How the hell do you know all that?” James traps a further retort on the tip of his tongue, forcibly holding the waterfall of words behind closed teeth and a tight smile.

“Some of us tend to think more than others. Really, you should try it sometime, it’s a lot more fun than you might imagine.”

“Oh, I can imagine alright, I’m sure being a bibliophile gives you the utmost pleasure.” This time, James can’t help himself.

“Your crude humour is not appreciated,” Remus says, although the twinkle in his proves that he is only joking. “I’m _trying_ to give you some useful advice here.”

“You know Sirius would have said it if I didn’t, ‘cause great minds think alike – aha, see Moony, I do think,” James says triumphantly.

 

“Sirius … problem … crap.” Remus mutters something else under his breath, and James strains his ears, ignoring the imploring look on his friend’s face that blatantly implies ‘secrecy, please.’

“Huh?”

“It’s nothing – hey, James, are you going to hire a caterer for the wedding?; because you know what happened last time Sirius and I touched Lily’s precious microwave, and Peter still manages to make flames shoot from his toast.”

“No, Remus, it’s _not_ nothing.”

 

For all of James Potter’s arrogance and inability to understand emotions, especially when it comes to his girlfriend (no, _fiancée,_ he corrects himself mentally, unable to keep a grin from spreading across his face), no-one can ever deny one thing: he was a loyal friend.

 

“Tell me, Remus, please.”

“Fine,” Remus grumbles. He loathes himself for giving in so easily, for making himself seem weak, because obviously there’s something wrong with him, there’s got to be when they’ve chosen Sirius and not _him._

He forces his face into some sort of hideously fake grin as he allows the words to spill from his mouth, hesitantly at first.

“Why did you pick Sirius for best man, and not me?” Remus asks, his eyes imploring James to understand his need for closure, his need to understand. Absentmindedly, he sinks further into the threadbare lounge and gropes around in the bowl of refreshments, earning himself two stale peanuts and a strand of what _looks_ like dog hair. “I know he’s your best friend, and I’m just the stupid werewolf that stands in the corner at parties entertaining Peter with corny jokes, but why, James, _why?”_

 

 

James stands up, his feet becoming one with the frayed carpet of his lounge room, and begins to walk back and forth, his fingernails picking at his slight stubble. Finally, he speaks.

“You hit the nail on the head, Moony. He’s my _best friend.”_

“And I’m the one who saved you from countless detentions so he had time to be your best friend.” Remus cannot help but argue, when really, he doesn’t even know why he’s so worked up. It’s just a stupid role at a wedding where tradition is going to mandate that he get drunk and then make a slurred speech about brotherhood and futures before trying to hit on the bride.

“That’s true,” James laughs, “we really did abuse the fact that you were a prefect. But, look, Lily and I had an idea, and we think it’s as important as any drunken speech about me losing my virginity on graduation night – because we all know he’s going to mention it – from Padfoot will be.”

 

He lowers his voice, allowing significance and sentiment to flit through it like butterflies on a warm spring breeze, and Remus can almost hear the silent glares of Sirius and Lily in the next room, guessing that they’re probably arguing over the menu or something else utterly ridiculous.

“I’m convinced that Sirius’ concern for your lack of virginity has something to do with that fact that he has not yet been relieved of his own, unless that rumour about him and Marlene McKinnon is true,” Remus quips, allowing laughter to grab hold of him, smother him, even though all he feels right now is this pathetic numbness and seething jealousy of his best friend.

“You could be right,” James says, throwing himself on the couch next to Remus, who startles slightly. “Anyway, Remus, Lily and I have been thinking, and … well, you know how her father died last year?”

“Yeah,” Remus says softly, as though his lowering his voice will save him from the despair that was those few months after Hogwarts. It had been their first _real_ introduction to the world outside Hogwarts, and the fact that, maybe, they weren’t as invincible as they’d all liked to think. “I remember.”

 

Everyone remembers, though they all deny it. A constant shadow had haunted them throughout those months; it had been the end of their childhood and the beginning of the war they would have to end. They have all changed, for the better, and yet they all hate dwelling on it.

 

“Well, we were wondering -”

“Do we have to bring this up _now,_ James?”

“Why, do you want to go back to your discussion of Sirius’ virginity?” James asks with a chuckle. “As much fun as it is to tease him, I’d rather not know the exact story behind why so many girls seem to giggle every time they see him. Unless -” his hazel eyes opened wide as he vaguely ran a hand through his hair “- unless there’s something about your own love life you wish to share and talking about Sirius makes it easier to approach the subject?”

 

 

“No,” Remus snaps, a little harsher than he intends. “This is stupid.”

“You’re right. We’ve been friends for nearly ten years. You should be able to just spit out the fact that you need a girlfriend without worrying what we’ll think.” James sinks into the couch, a grin on his face, and stares imploringly at Remus.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a hopeless case?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really, really, really pathetic sometimes?”

“You do,” Remus laughs, “every five minutes. But seriously, what has Lily’s dad got to do with anything?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you think too much?”

 

James’ mouth hangs open, a second sarcastic reply burning so fiercely on his lips that he’s surprised Remus can’t see it there. This isn’t the time though, and they both know, no matter how much they wish the haunting shadow that is desolation will disappear with the flick of a wrist and the wave of a wand, it won’t.

“Anyway,” he rectifies, leaning forward and grasping Remus’ hands with his own, “we’ve been thinking … and … and … we want you to walk Lily down the aisle.”

 

If this were a novel, Remus knows he’d be yelling “get real” about now, but this is life, so he sits there, eyes narrow and heart beating faster than a drum, wondering _when_ and _how_ and –

 

_“Why?”_ is his first coherent sentence, it trickles from his mouth, as though it is not entirely sure how it will survive in this world.

“Why not?” James replies, patting Remus’ arm before brushing his fingertips across his friend’s skin and plunging them into the bowl of nuts. “Yuck. Why the bloody hell did Sirius have to moult in the food when he’s got a whole room of shit Lily’s sister sent to us?” Gingerly, he lifted a peanut to his mouth, gagging. “It smells like piss, too.”

 

Remus just ogles his friend, because, seriously, how the hell can he be so nonchalant?

 

“You want me to walk Lily down the aisle?” he asks, and James can hear the disbelief in his voice.

“Of course. Unless you want to take Lily’s place. I know I’m a sexy beast and that snogging me at the altar would be a dream come true, but -”

“But I can’t do it, Prongs.” Remus hates admitting this too, hates the fact that he feels so weak and so vulnerable and so unlike a Marauder, but he pushes on. This is friendship at its very finest, even if this whole Sirius business has sewn a few seeds of doubt in his mind, and hiding the truth is pointless with James’ ability to see through _almost_ any façade. “I can’t even afford a suit for the wedding, and I don’t want to wreck something that’s been, what, seven years in the making.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you doubt yourself too much?”

 

 

“Don’t patronise me, James. This isn’t about me, this is about you and Lily and you having the best wedding possible, even if you have to elope so that Molly Weasley doesn’t demand an invite.”

“No, Remus, don’t patronise me. This is about the fact that Sirius is the best man and not you, isn’t it?” Screw Remus being an omnipotent god, James decides, because gods are supposed to be invisible and all-knowing from afar, and Remus’ emotions are as clear to him as those rough, jagged scars that lie in the hollows of his face. “This is about … everything, really.”

 

“Of course it’s not,” Remus mutters quietly, standing up and pacing the Potters’ (can he even call them that yet, he wonders vaguely) living room, his feet tearing paths between oriental vases and haphazard stacks of Quidditch magazines.

“Yes, it is.”

Normally, James would respond with nothing more than ‘is not’ but Remus’ face betrays so much unadulterated emotion that he can’t bring himself to utter such a basic reply.

 

“You need to believe in yourself, Remus.”

“I do, James, I do, but you know … you and Sirius … and Peter’s got Anna.” Remus chomps down on a fingernail, and decides that whatever Sirius did to those cashews must have been _downright horrible_ , because this tastes like heaven compared to the contents of that bowl.

“There’s four Marauders, Remus,” James points out, a watery smile on his face. “Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs – who made me last on the list, anyway? – Remus, Peter, Sirius and James.”

“Four Marauders, with two best friends, one of whom is engaged, and yet another who has a steady girlfriend,” Remus replies, changing position on the couch, it sinks with the weight of his anguish. “Not that it surprises me though,” he adds as an afterthought, “because even at Hogwarts you and Sirius were the popular ones.”

 

“Popularity is relative.” It’s the first sensible answer James can muster. “You don’t get it, do you Remus?” he adds, soldiering on. There’s a war out there, it lingers in their beds and their chairs, it haunts not only their nightmares but their lives, and James isn’t going to let a simple issue like this wreck not only his and Lily’s future, but the Marauders as well, especially when time is running out for resolving such misunderstandings. “Sirius and I were loved because of what we did, not who we were. We were the ones who made people laugh because we tried. Everyone knew who we were and what we wanted from life, and that’s why were popular while you blended into the background.

 

James knows that his words are cutting; he can almost see the knife wedged into Remus’ flesh, but they’re the truth, and that’s all that matters.

“We can’t all wear our hearts on our sleeves and be perfect now, can we? I’m a werewolf for Pete’s sake, a bloody _werewolf.”_

“Don’t start your self-depreciating shit again, Moony.”

 

 

It’s hard to say which friend is more livid as they stare each other down, eyes blazing and fists clenched.

 

“Not everyone can be the hero, the Mr Perfect who’s marrying the Little Miss Sunshine and Daisies. Some of us have to quiver and fall; some of us have to fail. It’s human nature,” Remus says finally, looking down. His skin burns with regret as he blushes.

“That, Remus, is crap. Pure and utter crap. Everyone has the chance to be somebody; you just have to make the most of it. Wear your heart on your sleeve for a change, and maybe you’ll learn that.”

“But …,” Remus chokes.

“But nothing. Lily and I have decided that you’re the only one who can do this for her.” James’ face is contorted into an expression that says _this is final, and I will not accept anything else,_ and yet Remus has to fight it.

 

(Maybe this is what wearing your heart on your sleeve is all about?)  
  


“Why not Sirius?”

“He’s the best man and Peter is the ring bearer.”

“But why … they have just as much confidence as me, I don’t want to wreck Lily’s special day for her.”

“Didn’t you just say that it’s ok to fall and quiver?” James replies, wrenching Remus’ words from the air and stuffing them back down his throat. He runs a hand through his hair, and quietly notes that he will have to wash it, because his fingers are tainted from all the salt and grease on the nuts.

“Yes, but -”

 

Remus has always prided himself on being the eloquent Marauder – Peter mumbles, James rambles and no-one usually gives a damn when Sirius speaks unless he has a new prank idea – but now, his carefully built facades are crumbling around him, smothering him in destruction.

 

“Look, Remus. It’s okay to be nervous. I’m bloody dying here, wondering if I’ve made the right choice and if she’s only said yes out of pity and what the hell I’m doing?”

“She loves you though, you can be sure of that. I can’t be sure of anything.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really, really, really pathetic sometimes?” James laughs.

 

“All the time, Prongs, all the time.”

“Good. Because love is pathetic and fear is pathetic and we’re going to conquer it together.” It sounds so disgustingly _corny_ in James’ head that he wants to gag, but the words roll easily off his tongue.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Remus is ready to give in now, they’ve both been exposed for what they really are and he wants to push forward, to start on wedding plans and heck, maybe he can even convince Lily to have a baby, even though Sirius will most probably be godfather.

 

 

“Of course this is what I want, Remus, and Lily wants it too. Sirius is my best friend, but you’ve always meant something to Lily, and it was her idea.”

“Fine,” Remus grumbles, trying to look disconcerted and failing miserably.

 

Together, they scramble off the couch and hug gingerly, because this is so different for both of them – and yet, it feels just right – before hurrying into the kitchen, where Sirius and Lily are in the middle of a silent standoff. Eager to break the silence, James snorts at the oh-so-innocent look on Sirius’ face and asks, “Sirius, did you by any chance do something to the bowl of nuts in there, they’re full of dog hairs and stink like piss?”

“James, has anyone ever told you that you’re pathetic.”

As the somber mood of the afternoon wafts over them and their conversation rings in their ears, all James and Remus can do is laugh.

  **\---**

**A/n: This was written for Red and the Wolf on Livejournal, in which you had to include both James and Remus or Lily in a fic. You also had to include one of the various Shakespeare quotes as inspiration, and an archery related prompt, which was, in my case, "quiver." I hope you enjoy it, because I wanted to write something a little different, and this is the result.**


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